50 Random Facts About Me || Part 1

Helloooooooooo! (Think Mrs. Doubtfire)

So remember when I had this bright idea of doing a "Blog My Life" series? Well, that was supposed to get started over the summer when I thought I'd have more free time. Well, I thought wrong. Big time. But I'm still working on the series so stay tuned, if you still care. In the meantime, I want to give you all a snippet of my life by doing the 50 Random Facts about me tag that's been going around YouTube. And since we've been down that road of me not having a camera decent enough to vlog nor me not really wanting to be THAT exposed to the world (yet), I've decided to blog it instead...in two parts.
Hope you enjoy!

50 Random Facts About Me (Karla...With a K) Part 1

1. I enjoy making lists. I get a sense of accomplishment when I can make a list and cross off something.
2. The only thing I actually enjoy more than making lists, is budgeting. My best friend jokes that I get my rocks off from budgeting. He's a jerk.
3. Yes. I have a male as a bestfriend. We call each other overlords. It sounds a bit geeky now that I actually think about it but, whatever. We have each other's back no matter what.
4. SURPRISE! I have more than 1 bestfriend. Shocker, I know. At the moment I have 3 with a floater. Each of my best friends serve a purpose. Sadly enough, there isn't one best friend who I feel as though I can tell everything to. Maybe it's my way of staying in control. Yea... let's go with that.
5. I live with one of my other bestfriends. We're complete opposites in almost every way imaginable. I could from a home that should have been inside of a magazine (i.e. not a blanket out of place, nothing on the floors, no dishes in the sink when you go to bed at night) and she comes from...not that (i.e. borderline hoarder). So imagine that working out. Somehow it does, beautifully. I honestly couldn't imagine living with anyone else (besides a husband someday). She puts up with my OCD moments, my bitch moments, my moments when I come back from seeing my Mom and realize that our home looks nothing like my Mom's and therefore I go on a cleaning spree. She also puts up with me leaving an absurd amount of bobby pins laying around within arms reach. In the couch cushions, on the dining room table, in the bathroom, in her car, in the kitchen (pro tip: they are great for chip clips), in the washer, in the dryer, in the dogs mouth. Literally. EV.ER.Y.WHERE.
6. My best friend/roommate and I have shared custody of a dog (which she's already claimed when we part ways). She's a beagle and a basset hound mix and is absolutely adorable. The dog, not my best friend. She's adorable too but... she's not a dog.
7. But sometimes my dog isn't a dog, she's a cat. We have a bay window in our new place that is large enough for people to sit on. She likes to sit on it. ALL.DAY. And just stare out the window. Sometimes I forget she's there because she doesn't move for quite some time until she of course starts whining because she sees another dog outside.
8. I'm thinking about getting another dog to keep dog #1 company and to have a buddy.
9. If I were to get another dog, it would be a corgi. I love them. They're just like me, short with little legs. I'm a corgi in human form. Deal with it.
10. I believe in reincarnation. Deal with it. No I don't know what I was in my previous life but I think it has something to do with being outdoors. I just feel at peace when I'm in nature.
11. If I could be reincarnated into an animal, it would probably be a sloth.
12. I'm probably the shortest full-grown person you know. On a good day I'm 5'. Normally, I'm 4'11 3/4" .Call me fun sized if you will.
1. When people have the audacity to ask me how short I am my response is usually "Not." And I just keep it moving.
13. I used to be a girl scout and still can resist the girl scout promise and girl scout honor. Yea, I was that kind of kid.
14. When I was a girl scout I used to be the one that tried to get the most badges. A little competitive? Maybe. But there was one badge that I could never get...the swimming badge.
15. I don't know how to swim or tread water. Don't offer to teach me, it probably won't work.
1. I can swim enough to stay alive if needed and to get from point a to point b but it's not efficient in any way imaginable.
16. Samoa Girl Scout Cookies are not only a bit racist, but totally delicious. My mom and I hoard boxes at a time.
17. I'm a Daddy's girl to the core. I was brought up by my Dad as his "only son" since his dreams of having a boy to carry on his legacy was crushed when the doctor told him that I was lacking a certain phallus.
18. I've played softball for close to 18 years. I don't like to brag, but I'm pretty damn good. I've moved from fast pitch to slow pitch though because there aren't any fast pitch leagues around me. Le Sigh.
19. I'm currently on 2.5 teams (one as a "Hey we're missing a girl can you come play?" team) where I play short, 3rd, or 2nd.
20. I haven't missed a Women's College World Series (softball) in years. End of May/beginning of June? I'm parked in front of the TV.
21. I love my hair. It's natural and I'm a pro-natural hair advocate. But I won't force anyone to go natural. Actually, I'll only explain the benefits of not having chemicals in your hair if you start the conversation first. It's not my place to tell you what you should or should not do to your body. I'll just spread my knowledge whenever it's warranted and allowed.
1. I hate when people force their opinions/beliefs/way of life on me, so why would I do that to anyone else?
22. For that reason, I refuse to talk about religion/politics/heated cultural events with people. I believe in healthy arguments and discussion but most people take that to an insane level where they're no longer communicating. Just trying to get their point across.
23. I enjoy healthy arguments. My best friend in high school and I stopped talking because of an argument over who knows what where we disagreed on something that didn't turn into a healthy argument. Woops. Since then, we've both learned to respectfully disagree. She became a lawyer. I just like to argue for the sake of making the other person aware other thought processes.  
24. I'm an international business MBA candidate so I'm very aware of cultural/personal/regional/ generational differences in people. I try to keep an open mind on any and everything and not much bothers me when it comes to customs/gestures/ways of life - except those that spread and promote ignorance and hate and take away humans inalienable right.  
1. I'm pro-LGBT
2. I'm pro-gay rights/marriage
3. I'm pro-choice
4. I'm pro- tattoos in the workplace
5. I'm a registered democrat but I don't agree with everything they stand for
6. I believe in standing up for myself and others while questioning outdated rules and norms
7. I'm pro -everyone has their own opinion and is entitled to it but not everyone's opinion is for the betterment of society and that's where things get funky
25. I don't apologize for my opinion and I don't expect you to apologize for yours. I would just hope that you're sensitive to others opinions when expressing your own and respectful of everyone's right to have an opinion that is different than yours.

There you have it folks. Part 1 of a 2 (maybe more) part series. I tried not to get too deep into some heavy stuff. I'll save that for later.

Until Next Time...

Happy Father's Day!

Just popping in to wish all of you Dads out there (anyone can be a father...that's just determined by DNA and one lucky sperm that beat out the rest to survive, thrive, grow, and mutate into a baby 9 months later) a Happy Father's Day! I still think it should be called "Happy Dad's Day". There's no need to be so uptight with these titles, people. I don't know one child that calls their Dad "Father". Of course I don't really spend time talking to kids that much so I could be wrong. But on any note, to all that Dads that are apart of their children's lives in a positive way, Happy Dad's Day to you. And for the single mother's out there who are holding it down? Congratulations and thank you. While I cannot say that you can take the place of a Dad, you're doing the best that you can with the circumstances that were given. And for that, I applaud you to the moon and back.

Now that the serious stuff is out of the way, let's get to the giggles and chuckles and smirks that I always (try) to provide. By now you've heard about all of the things that I get from my mom. And no, this isn't some dumb Will.I.Am song where they just talk about women's bodies as if that's all they really are. I'm talking about the borderline OCD that I have. The need to keep everything in it's place. The need to be in control of every aspect of my life. The weird thing I have where I don't drink the last of my drinks. My obsession with anything DIY and HGTV related. The inner mamma bear in my is all because of her. So that leaves you asking, "Well, Karla with a K, what did you get from your Dad?" Good question my loves, good freaking question.

Here is a list of things I got from my Dad or as I like to call it my:

Thanks Dad For Making Me Awesome List:

1. My body. Not to sound all weird and for those of you who haven't seen me in real life I am all female, promise. But I get my tree trunk legs and my other assets (ahem) from my Dad's side of the family. 
2. My brain...well half of it. I've decided that I'm pretty much the best mixture of my parents that could ever happen (sorry Karol, but we all know I'm the favorite anyway). But in all seriousness, I get the nurturing mamma bear from my Mom. And from my Dad, I have the analytical side. See, Daddy Dearest majored in Engineering in College (don't ask me which one because I always get it wrong). And throughout my education, he would help with mold that tiny little 7 pound brain of mine into an analytical machine. So thanks Dad for making my over analyze every part of  my life. 'Preciate it, bro. 
3. My love of sports and being active. My Dad always wanted a boy. He never kept that hidden at all. So when I came around and I was missing a member of the male anatomy, he didn't give up on his dream. Instead, he decided that his little girl was going to play double duty and be his little boy too. So he taught me how to play softball at a young age. Like 5 years old young age, with the plans of enrolling my into t-ball. Too bad that I was a superstar on the field and got to skip t-ball because I could make the throw from 3rd base (ish) to first at the tender age of 6. Yea. I was that good in my floral spandex pants. Thanks to him. Oh and pitching? No problem. He'd drag me outside when I would have much rather been doing anything else and work on my pitching. And for all those other sports out there and being active all the time? Yea that was him. When I was growing up we had a workout room in our basement that was lined with his trophies. I mean LINED. He had bowling trophies, high jump trophies, long jump trophies, other track and field event trophies, football trophies, trophies for having some many trophies. Ridiculous. Yet inspiring.  
4. Being able to spit out of moving cars without getting it on you. That is probably one of the most practical skills ever. No one wants to spit on themselves. Need an explanation? See #3. 
5. My love of making things with my hands. Daddy does home improvement on the side. Daddy also has had power tools since I could remember. Karla played with Daddy's power tools when he was away. At like the age of 8 or so away. There's even a picture of my at the bottom of his ladder when I was so young I could barely crawl. But I crawled my happy ass and nappy headed (seriously, head full of hair going all over the place) self to the bottom of his ladder and was determined to just get up there somehow.  I can read a measuring tape better than anyone he knows and my meticulous mind (thanks to Mommy Dearest) means when I mud and tape it almost doesn't need to be sanded over. I know that wall studs at 16" apart and have finished a basement or two when I worked with him over one summer. 

I'm sure there are tons more and this post will be updated as I think of them but right now I have to head out because I'm going to see my Daddy at home. Peace out homies. 

Until Next Time...

WTF Wednesday || Does Your Banana Need a Cover?

So I'm a few days late and more than a dollar short (keep the short jokes coming) but I just had to share this idiotic thing with you. Now I lerve me some Groupons. And Living Socials. And all those other websites that offer beaucoup deals (Side note: Did you know beaucoup was spelled like that? Yea me neither. Not until Google told me it was. The more you know...). Anyway, this deal is just obnoxiously hilarious and totally out of control. I introduce to you...Banana Bunkers.

For just $8.99 you can get a cover. FOR YOUR BANANA!

I can only imagine what the infomercial for this product would be.

"Are you tired of your banana getting banged around in your purse?" *shot of a lady pulling a smashed banana out of an over sized and overstuffed satchel* What about your banana turned brown from all of the abuse that it takes? *Poor banana getting thrown against a wall by a baby* Well not anymore! Introducing the Banana Bunker! For just one order of $8.99 (plus shipping and handling) we'll send you two Banana Bunkers to extend the lives of your elongated produce. Just simply click the two ends together over a banana and viola. Your bananas are safe from harm. Drop them *Banana "accidentally" pushed off of a counter top* Throw them *Two kids playing catch with a banana outside* and even forget about them *Lady surprisingly pulls a forgotten banana out of between the car seats* and your bananas will stay free from harm!

But wait...act now and we'll throw in a third Banana Bunker for free! That's right, three Banana Bunkers for the price of two. Now your whole bushel of bananas can be protected!



Image Courtesy of Google Images


Really Groupon? Go home. You're drunk.

Until Next Time...

Ms. Fix-It

Hi my name is Karla (with a K), and I'm a fixer.

Now that that is off my chest, I should probably explain myself. Fallacy. I won't explain myself but this lovely lady will. I found this post on one of my favorite natural hair blogs and I was intrigued by the title and hooked after the first paragraph. Just do yourself a favor and read the blog here. I'll wait. Promise.

Welcome back.
She had described me. And at the same time she pointed out my biggest flaw. I'm a fixer. A perpetual fixer. I tend to fix any and everything. Even things that don't necessarily need to be fixed. My best friend calls me Mamma Bear (before 9 pm - after that I turn into Call Me Maybe which is a whole 'nother story) because I tend to try to fix ev.er.y.thing. I'm guilty of trying to fix guys I've dated in the past. Even though they clearly weren't broken. A bunch of dumb asses? Yes. Just not the right fit for me. I've tried to fix friendships that didn't need to be saved. I tried to fix other people's relationships. I tried to fix my friends. I've tried to fix group projects. (Side note: Old hag chick in the group from my last post? Yea...still a little upset with her. But the class is over and the presentation went off without a hitch. More on that later because I caught the Professor yawning in the middle of a few presentations and... anyway more on that later.) I'm a fixer. And the sad truth is...I don't think I willingly let people into my life loving the way that they are now. Instead I let them in if I love the way that I think they could  be in the future.

Terrible. I know. But that's just how I am. And for once I can say for certain, this is something that needs to be fixed.

So I'm going to be a fixer, one last time. And fix myself.

Until Next Time...

Just Another Maniac Monday

"I wish it were Sunday...cuz that's my fun-day." NOT. You want to know what my Sunday Funday consisted of? Trying to find a comfortable position to rest in as I was extremely sore from playing four games of softball in less than 24 hours. But as soon as I found a position that didn't hurt, I had to get up because of:

• My bladder. It's the size of a pea (pun intended) so every 30-40 minutes ...well you get the point
• My Dog. She doesn't always have to go out but when she does it's right after you get comfortable
• Laundry was done. Gotta mumbo the laundry. And if you're asking what mumbo-ing the laundry is, it's a Frusciante-ism that apparently means to switch the loads. Courtesy of the crazy Frusciante family.

And in the mean time, I was doing homework. Sunday Funday my arse.

Anyway, it's week 18. So depending on what plan you're following put don't forget to put in:

1. $18
2. $36
3. Whatever amount you're on.
4. Nothing. I don't care really. You're money, not mine.

Take care on this dreary Monday. I have a feeling this is the type of day that the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day was written about.

Until Next Time...

The Struggles of Having Natural Hair

As described by Buzzfeed. Pretty damn accurate if I do say so myself. Since you know, I do have natural hair and all. Take a gander and if you ever found yourself committing one of the "Can I touch your hair?" crimes, please stop. Things can, and will, turn ugly if you don't. That's not a threat...just a promise.

http://www.buzzfeed.com/hnigatu/28-exasperating-afro-problems

On a related note, I probably had the best braid out of my life today. I recieved compliments a many and scared myself about 20 times today because my hair kept brushing my back and I thought someone was touching me. Or even worse, my hair was so big/long that when I used my peripheral vision, I thought something was a) crawling on my shirt (nope, just hair practicing it's hang time) or b) there was someone eerily close to me or c) someone was touching me. Side eyes to my hair being long and in the way were a plenty today while I was sitting at my cube, by myself. That is until I went to lunch and was complimented on my hair by a group of ladies. There was a lot of "I want my hair to look like hers." going on.

Trust.  I was blushing on the outside and doing the dougie, electric slide, wobble, and the hammer time all at once inside.

Life is [Naturally] Good.

Until Next Time....

P.S. This bomb ass braid out was later ruined by Shaun T and his cray cray cardio thing that some people refer to as Insanity. Month 2...what up!?

WTF Wednesday || C Is for...Criminal?

Happy Hump Day! This week's version of WTF Wednesday will be two fold. One part will be about Cookie Monster getting arrested for wreckless endangerment in NY  (I can't make this stuff up people) and the second part will be about a dream I had where my nose was broken and my elementary school nurse was there. Weird.

Here's the link to the Cookie Criminal Monster story. I bet he just wanted some cookies.

http://abcnews.go.com/blogs/headlines/2013/04/for-this-cookie-monster-c-is-for-cops/

Until Next Time...

Love Thy Neighbor... No Matter Who They Love

Less Hate, More Love.

Less Discrimination, More Acceptance.

Less Divorce, More Marriages that Last.

Less Bans, More Happiness.

On the Lookout for Cute Gym Shirts

I'm on the hunt for cute fitness apparel. I have the bottoms covered (all pun intended) but I really want some cute workout shirts. And by cute I mean borderline obnoxious, sarcastic, raw, gritty, girly, flirty, sexual inuendo filled shirts. Like these:

http://www.ratedrxwear.com/collections/womens-tanks/products/wallballs-women-burnout-tank-green

http://www.etsy.com/listing/122810496/i-clean-jerk-i-have-a-nice-snatch?ref=shop_home_active



http://hipfit.com/i-amrap-tank-women/



http://hipfit.com/this-is-why-i-squat-tank/

Got any more ideas? Please send them my way. Thanks dolls!

Until Next Time...

Who Needs a Giggle for the Night?

In case you need a giggle for the night, please click through the link for The 19 Most Useless Lyrics Pages on the Internet. My favorite? #12 of course. 

You're welcome :)

Until Next Time...

The 40 Day Diet

[Disclaimer: Religion is one of those things that gets people's panties in a huge bunch. These words below, and this entire blog, are my thoughts. Hate them, love them, they are mine that I choose to share with you. I mean no harm and hope not to offend. But if I do, please respond with care.]

Today is Wednesday. Also known as Hump Day. It just so happens to be the Wednesday that falls after the gluttonous holiday of Fat Tuesday, so you know what that means? Today is Ash Wednesday. Also the beginning of what seems to be the infamous "40 Day Diet" aka Lent.

For those of you who know understand the correlation, let me explain. Lent lasts 40 days and 40 nights. While it's original purpose was for the parishioners to get closer to God through a "preparation of the believer". This period consisted of prayer, of course, repenting sins, selfless giving to others for a religious purpose or rite and self-denial aka fasting. Fast forward some years (many) and Lent has been generalized as a period of time when giving up fats and sweets is the norm. Hence what I like to call the 40 Day Diet.

[EDIT: It was brought to my attention by a reader that it seems as though I was thinking Ash Wednesday being preceded by Fat Tuesday was some sort of coincidence. Wrong. I'm completely aware of the connection between Fat Tuesday and Ash Wednesday. Simply put? Feast before fast. Carry on.]

How did everything change from worshipping and preparing for Easter to not eating fried foods?

Don't get me wrong. I myself have participated in many 40 Day Diets and remember giving up meat (last year), fried foods (the year before), and chocolate (a year in high school while I worked at a candy store). So I'm not knocking everyone who decided to give up facebook, coffee, sodas, fried foods or what have you. I'm just trying to figure out where things went awry. And why are we so focused on giving up things when Lent is supposed to involve many other aspects? I don't know, the whole giving to others thing strikes me as something that's worthy of participating in for 40 days and 40 nights. But that's just me. Maybe I'm the crazy one.

I remember a few years ago the thing I was "giving up" for Lent fell in line with this. I gave up my money. Now before you come after me with pitchforks or flip your desk over in confusion, let me explain myself. When people asked for donations, I gave them donations. Easy peasy lemon squeezy. In those 40 days I probably donated a total of $100 but I got so much more out of it. I helped people. Lots of people and organizations and foundations. I even gave $10 to a homeless man and his daughter who were begging for food. Were they really homeless? That's not for me to decide but for the one that they answer to at the end of the day. But before I start rambling, I'll wrap this bitty up.

If you're going to participate in Lent (and that's not for me to decide for you. I truly, could care less if you do or not), think about giving up something that will help someone else. Not as a way for you to fit into your bathing suit in a few months. Helping others is just as much as a way to better yourself as reducing your calories.

Oh. And it probably wouldn't hurt if you went and repented for those sins that you've done. You know... Mardi Gras, New Year's Eve, every Friday night? But again. I don't judge. It's not my place.

Until next time...

Reasons, Seasons, Lifetime

Going home is always a mixed bag. The town I come from is comparable to a black hole (in my opinion). If you don't leave once you graduate high school, you tend to get stuck there. Which could be a good or a bad thing. For me, it would be considered a bad thing. I like being the girl from a small town than the girl stuck in a small town. 

Going back and reconnecting with friends from high school makes me realize how much I've changed and just how much we've grown apart. It hurts sometimes knowing that you don't quite fit in with the people that you shared your formative years with.  But once you get past the hurt, you realize that those people, and everyone else you come in contact with were put in your life for a reason. Or a season. Or a lifetime.

I've had plenty of people enter into my life as possible lifetimes only to go out after their season, or even sooner after their reason was fulfilled. In elementary school I had a best friend who I thought would be a bridesmaid at my wedding to the cute kid with a bowl haircut. Luckily, that cute kid with a bowl haircut never liked me back so that wedding I talked about is still on hold today. But the best friend? She found another best friend and life went on. What about that guy in high school who you were best friends with for about two years until he decided to drop out his senior year? Seriously, you two were inseparable. You bailed him out of trouble more times than you could count. He taught you not to judge a person before you got to know them. Reason. And that girl that has a key to your apartment and let's herself in at any time just because she doesn't want to stay at her place? Or that guy who is your emotional tampon and is actually okay with that title? Or your best friend, roommate, therapist, and "other mommy" to your pudgy drool filled blog of a dog? All lifetimes.

We all have people in our lives that are there for a specific reason, there for a season - say four years in college, or for the rest of your lives. The hardest part isn't determining who is apart of which group, it's letting people flow in and out of your life at their desired times. There is nothing worse than holding onto someone who you hoped was a lifetime and only find out that they were there for a simple reason.

Well I'm sure there are some thing some things that are worse. Probably child labor, child birth, and all things having to do with pushing a large object out of an orifice. But still, it's pretty bad.

Welcome... Please Come In!

As the name suggests. My name is Karla. And yes, that's Karla with a K. Not a C, but a K.

This blog will be a recollection of my life as I see fit. Sure, at times things may not make sense, the right answer will appear oh so wrong, and there will be a few mistakes, mishaps, misspellings and missteps along the way but this is the journey that I would like to share. With you.

I'll take you day by day, but more likely every few days by every few days, along with me in this voyage that I call my life. We don't have to hold hands...but I'm not against it (unless you didn't wash your hands - then I'm totally against it). At times I'll make you laugh. I'll try my best not to make you cry. And there will be instances where you can't stand it here. Probably about as many times that you find yourself enthralled by my snazzy story-telling skills. Don't worry, you're free to come and go as you please. I won't judge.

Just make sure you keep all hands, feet, opinions objects, and what have you inside the ride at all times. Hope you enjoy the ride!